


Roadmaps and Heartlines

by asofthaven



Series: Rare Pair Week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, HQ Rarepair Week, I have nothing else to say, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Road Trips, this pairing is slowly killing me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asofthaven/pseuds/asofthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I. Day 2-distance: "It started unwittingly, with insomnia and loneliness making him wonder: five hours one way and five hours back—was it worth it, really, for three day visits that never happened often enough or lasted long enough, was it worth the sudden bursts of want that had little to do with sex and everything to do with the way holding Nishinoya made him feel like the earth had returned to its axis?"</p><p>II. Day 4-unrequited: "By the time an hour passes, Nishinoya’s got a single line down in his uneven scrawl and he figures that’s all there is to say for something so big.<br/><i>I just really wanted you to know that I’m in love with you.</i>"</p><p>III. Day 6-travel: Road trips are a comedy of errors and affection.</p><p>IV. Day 1-celebration: "Nishinoya shifted so he was hovering over Ennoshita. Ennoshita blinked at him, watched the way bright blurs appeared and disappeared behind his head, how he looked softer with moonlight at his back and his breath coming out in a thin white puff.<br/>“You don’t have anything you want to wish for?” he asked."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> day 2: distance
> 
> starting with day 2 bc day 1 Is Not Working. Will I complete them all? Not even I know.

i. distance

Five hours was a long way from home, felt even longer when it was away from a boyfriend like sunlight and caffeine, and Ennoshita wasn’t sure whether it was the distance distorting his perceptions or the schoolwork-induced insomnia or the fact that missing Nishinoya was beginning to sink into his bones like it was part of his biology, but he was starting to get _tired_.

He thought it’d be worth it, transferring to a school so far away—it had felt like a better fit, had seemed _right_ , and Nishinoya was supportive like he always was, but Ennoshita was finding it harder and harder to remember why he thought they’d be able to get through the distance, why he thought _he_ would be able to deal with it.

It started unwittingly, with insomnia and loneliness making him wonder: five hours one way and five hours back—was it worth it, really, for three day visits that never happened often enough or lasted long enough, was it worth the sudden bursts of want that had little to do with sex and everything to do with the way holding Nishinoya made him feel like the earth had returned to its axis?

(It couldn’t be quelled with a text or a phone call or skype, and Ennoshita knew because he tried, he tried but it was hard to want to hold someone when all you had was cold technology and the memory of their hand in yours.)

It progressed with putting off nightly phone calls with schoolwork as a convenient excuse and answering texts minutes, hours later because Ennoshita felt guilty every time he wondered: _are we worth it are we worth it is he worth it am I worth it am I worth it am I worth it?_

He didn’t say these things because he couldn’t; his throat got stuck every time he heard Nishinoya’s voice on the other end of the line, every time he got a bored selfie from Nishinoya at work, every time Nishinoya sent him a row of heart emojis, and wasn’t it wrong of Ennoshita to sit there and doubt when Nishinoya was so invested in this, in _them?_

He couldn’t help but feel that there were a hundred different ways for them to fall apart, and only a scant dozen for them to stay, and with numbers like that, who could blame the way Ennoshita’s worries curled in the dip of his chest?

_(am I worth it?)_

_(are we?)_

It continued with Ennoshita reassuring Nishinoya one night, _“I’m just really busy, this year is killing me,”_ and feeling sourness at the back of his throat, like his muscles were protesting his lies.

 

ii. absence

It ended with Ennoshita curled up on his side, his phone cradled against his ear, feeling guilt swirl low in his gut at the heavy silence on the other end of the line.

“I don’t want to break up,” Nishinoya answered, his voice hesitant and hurt in a way Ennoshita had never heard before, in a way he didn’t want to get used to hearing.

(He wouldn’t have to, though, if he ended it, and he felt sick at the very thought, hated that he’d come to that point, that he’d hurt—)

Ennoshita’s resolve crumbled, unsticking his throat enough to ask, “Don’t you hate it, though?”

(It was the question he should have asked first, he realized, and it prompted the thought, _communication is key_ , like they were back on a volleyball court and Nishinoya was telling him to _speak up, Captain!_ )

He listened to the sound of Nishinoya moving, probably stretching along his bed with his face half-crushed into a pillow. Ennoshita wondered if he would have to explain what he meant, hoped he didn’t because that would take too long and his throat was already beginning to close up again.

(Second semester should have meant that he’d gotten used to the feeling of missing someone, but it didn’t.)

_(am I worth it?)_

“Yeah,” Nishinoya said after a long moment, his voice muffled in the exact way Ennoshita expected it to be, “But that doesn’t mean I want to break up.”

The silence that followed was curious, an open-ended wondering that left everything up to Ennoshita.

_But am I worth it?_

“I just…” he started slowly. It was hard work, getting those words out from where they’d sat at the back of his throat for far too long.

_I just wondered if you would forget me, since you’re not the type to look back, and I wonder, sometimes, how far behind you I am._

Nishinoya exhaled loudly on the other end of the line before Ennoshita could get a word out. When he spoke, his voice came out even more muffled, and Ennoshita pictured Nishinoya pushing his face into the pillow as he spoke, “Is it me?”

“What?” Ennoshita asked, confused.

(It should have been clear that it was always him, shouldn’t it?)

“Have I been annoying you?” Nishinoya asked, his voice getting more and more muffled, “cause I know you’re busy, but I miss you and I know I text a lot and send a lot of snapchats and is it—am I that annoying, that you don’t want—”

“Noya,” Ennoshita interrupted, surprised and confused and hurt by the fact that Nishinoya was hurt, hurt by the fact that he was the reason Nishinoya was hurt, “Noya, that’s not—no, you’re not annoying, god, I don’t think that.”

(Nishinoya _was_ annoying, sometimes—sometimes his boundless energy was annoying and his public displays of affection were annoying, but there was a difference, a vast, oceans-wide difference between _that_ kind of annoying and this kind of annoying, and Ennoshita didn’t want Nishinoya to ever confuse the two.)

“I’m just,” _scared_ , he knew, closing his eyes, and letting the breath out through his nose. He was scared and that was what was making his throat close up every time he thought about talking—because if they talked about it and Nishinoya decided he wasn’t worth it, that would _hurt_.

The world wouldn’t end, the stars wouldn’t go out, but it would _hurt_ and Ennoshita had a lot more experience with the innocently painful than the earth-shattering.

He held his breath, kept his eyes squeezed shut as he let it out in a rush.

“Do you really think I’m worth it?”

Nishinoya’s answer was immediate and confused. “Course I do. I love you.”

Ennoshita sunk onto his back even though his chest was still sticky with fear when he breathed.

“I don’t want to break up either,” he said, smiling slightly at Nishinoya’s chiding, “Then don’t _say_ that, Chikara!”

“Sorry,” he said. Ennoshita sighed, closing his eyes briefly, “I don’t know. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Nishinoya said, his tone petulant but already sounding significantly less worried. Ennoshita smiled at that, wondered if he’d ever get used to Nishinoya’s constantly changing emotions.

(It’s been years already, so he’d guess not.)

(He was fine with that.)

There was silence on the other end again, and Ennoshita realized that Nishinoya was still waiting for the rest, because Nishinoya knew him well enough to know that there was more.

“I was just scared, I guess.”

“Of what?” Nishinoya asked, sounding sincere in his curiosity.

(Distance hurt, being away from Nishinoya when he was frustrated hurt, the thoughts that curled at the back of Ennoshita’s mind like a fog—it all hurt, and it was scary, to know he could feel pain from something as simple as being away, to know that he could love someone and they could love him, and there would still be the possibility of pain.)

(Ennoshita already knew it was easier to leave something timidly, with a lie and a sigh, but didn’t he stop being a runaway kind of guy in high school?)

(And besides, wouldn't it hurt more if he ran?)

“Of not being enough, I guess,” Ennoshita said after a moment, staring at his ceiling like it could change something.

“That’s silly of you,” Nishinoya said, his voice coming out clear like he’d finally lifted his head out of the pillow, “You’ve always been more than enough.”

 

iii. homeward

Ennoshita got a phone call between his ten o’clock and eleven forty-five class from Nisihinoya, a call that informed him that 1) his boyfriend was two hours into a five hour trip to see him, 2) his boyfriend had skipped out on classes—not unusual—and volleyball practice—far more unusual—because he was worried, and 3) his boyfriend was the singularly most incredible person he’d ever had the luck to meet, even if Ennoshita did have to remind him that ditching everything in the middle of the week for him was neither healthy nor financially sound.

“I thought you were leaving for good,” Nishinoya said nonchalantly, once he was nestled in Ennoshita’s lap. “I panicked.”

“Your panic seems awfully well-orchestrated,” Ennoshita said, his arms wrapped tight around Nishinoya’s torso.

Nishinoya leaned his head back, grinned like he was caught and didn’t care. “Well, I don’t need an excuse to come see you, yanno? I was gonna do it anyway. I just figured I’d do it sooner now.”

Ennoshita laughed, burying his face in Nishinoya’s hair. He grew it out recently, pinned his bangs back with a smattering of pins.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ennoshita said, all warmth and affection.

“You are too,” Nishinoya said, lacing his fingers through Ennoshita’s. “I mean, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Ennoshita sighed, aware that he’d probably be apologizing for That, as they’d come to refer to the almost-break-up of two nights ago, for the entirety of Nishinoya’s stay.

“That is in addition to scaring you out of your skin and,” he blinked, trying to remember, “What was the other one?”

“Making me lose all my hair,” Nishinoya responded promptly before twisting in Ennoshita’s lap to ask, “When’re you gonna invite me to one of your film show things?”

“I don’t have one until the end of the year,” Ennoshita answered, “It’ll probably be terrible, but I’ll let you know.”

“It will not,” Nishinoya said firmly, “It’ll be awesome cause you’re awesome, and I’ll be there like, _that’s my boyfriend’s film, he’s super awesome and cute and has great arms_.”

“Oh my god,” Ennoshita said because _oh, my god_ , “Don’t do that last part, please.”

Nishinoya laughed in a way that Ennoshita knew to mean he wasn’t going to listen to him.

“Oh, my god,” Ennoshita repeated, pressing his face into Nishinoya’s hair again. He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed at the potential of Nishinoya embarrassing him or the fact that he was pretty sure he wouldn't care either way. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“You love me, though,” Nishinoya said, wrapping his arms around Ennoshita’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Ennoshita said, “still haven’t figured that out yet, though.”

“I love you, too,” Nishinoya announced, rubbing their noses together. His hand jabbed suddenly at Ennoshita’s rib, jerking him up in surprise.

“What?” Ennoshita asked, rubbing at his side. That _stung_.

“Now you have to promise you won’t say you wanna break up ever again,” Nishinoya said, mouth a tight, exaggerated line.

Ennoshita stopped, wondering if it was too soon to joke about forever. He did it anyway just to be sure. “Never again?”

Nishinoya scrunched his nose at him, like he knew exactly what Ennoshita was doing and was trying to be annoyed about it.

“Never ever,” Nishinoya said sternly, his fingers a nervous tick against Ennoshita's arms.

(Ennoshita wasn’t the sort who believed in forever.)

He hummed, letting his eyes fall closed as he rested their foreheads together.

“I promise I won’t say it again,” Ennoshita said, quietly. He felt Nishinoya’s breath against his lips, but it wasn’t until Ennoshita opened his eyes, pulled back enough to see the wonder in the corner of Nishinoya’s grin and the pink high in his cheeks that Nishinoya answered, almost breathless as he closed the space between them.

“Good.”

(A forever with Nishinoya, though—Ennoshita could believe in that.)

 

iv. home

When Ennoshita cracked his eyes open, it was to the thought that he couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour, tops. But the light coming through the window was the late afternoon kind, and he knew it had been early-dark when he collapsed onto Nishinoya’s bed after the train ride back.

He twisted over onto his other side, thinking that it was suspiciously quiet in the apartment—and considering that the three full-time inhabitants were Tanaka, Taketora, and Nishinoya, Ennoshita felt he was justified in his suspicion. But then the bed dipped, and Nishinoya was grinning down at him, propped up on his palms, and the world kind of righted itself.

“Hey,” Ennoshita greeted, belatedly. He was still tired from the trip and the end of the semester, and he was never as quick as Nishinoya to wake.

“Morning,” Nishinoya said, even though it was clearly no longer morning, “So I was thinking, right?”

“About what?” Ennoshita asked, sitting up.

“You,” Nishinoya said, shamelessly, “You’re like a boomerang.”

Ennoshita had to mentally repeat the words several times to assure himself he was hearing things correctly. “What.”

"A boomerang," Nishinoya repeated, “Yanno? Swoom and back.”

"...and why is that?" Ennoshita ventured, rubbing at one eye. He could hear someone moving outside the bedroom door, guessed it was Taketora from the fact that there was no humming accompanying the movement. 

"It's because," Nishinoya started, leaning forward to press his nose against Ennoshita's, "you always come back."

Ennoshita blinked at him, frowning as the words sink in. "I have nowhere else to go," he said, shuffling and adjusting when Nishinoya climbed in next to him. It wasn’t true, strictly speaking, but Ennoshita preferred Nishinoya’s place to his parent’s home. It was far more of a home here anyways, even if the time he spent here was divided between peace-keeping and extended sighing.

Nishinoya made a face at him, annoyed, and Ennoshita felt the laugh in his chest translate into a sleepy smile.

"I meant," Nishinoya started again, the emphasis childish and petulant, "that you always _come back_."

It didn’t take long for Ennoshita to realize what Nishinoya meant.

(How many times did Nishinoya wonder if he would?)

"Well, yeah," Ennoshita replied, leaning back to observe Nishinoya. He knew Nishinoya’s face better than his own, probably; knew every twist of his lips, every tilt of his head, knew that everything and more could be read from the stares Nishinoya gave.

It should be easier to say this, after all the time they've been together.

( _Years_ , his mind helpfully supplied, _years and years because Nishinoya knew to never let you go and you knew to never let him go, either._ )

"That’s what love is, isn’t it," he said, feeling heat swell around his throat and ears.

“Yeah,” Nishinoya echoed with a laugh, pressing himself closer. “Yeah, I think so too!”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4-Unrequited
> 
> Nishinoya has anxieties, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is making it nearly impossible for me to finish these :c it's really rushed but yay! Day 4!

Nishinoya comes to the decision that he has to do something about his crush on his friend and captain and practically private tutor when he's about five seconds away from taking a volleyball to the face for the first time in like, at least a good three weeks.

He dodges it at the last second, though, because even if he's super distracted by Ennoshita's entire existence, it's not like his reflexes have been _totally_ shot.

"You've been distracted today," Chikara says when they're on a break, passing Nishinoya a water bottle. He looks concerned.

Nishinoya laughs, taking the water bottle with a thanks, and he nearly spills it right then and there, with the entire team milling around them and late afternoon sunlight making them gross and sweaty— _hey, Chikara, it's funny, cause I think I'm in love with you,_ is what almost comes out instead of _thanks_.

Nishinoya's never thought of himself as a coward, but there's certainly nothing _brave_ about the way he chickens out even though the words are just there at the tip of his tongue. He takes a long swig of water, avoiding Chikara's question by pointing out that Ryuu's giant crush is becoming so obvious that Tsukishima has got to notice it at some point.

Chikara looks away from Nishinoya to where Ryuu is making a ruckus with a red-faced Tsukishima spitting fire right back at him, and it's just enough time for Nishinoya to remember how to breathe like a normal person, for him to fix his grin into something genuine when Chikara looks back with an amused expression.

"You know, I think Tsukishima's surprisingly dense about these things."

Nishinoya peers past Chikara. "Do you think they're just playing dumb about it?"

Chikara glances back at them, frowning slightly. “I think they honestly just don’t see it.”

Nishinoya watches how Ryuu bends into Tsukishima’s space, how Tsukishima _allows_ it, and has to wonder—how does anyone miss that?

 

The problem with being in love with someone like Chikara is that Nishinoya can't help but think that everyone else is also in love with him, and also probably a way better match.

Nishinoya's reminded of this when he gets back his math test and realizes that the only reason he managed to pass—and barely, at that—is because Chikara keeps taking the time out of his life to help him study.

It's not that he thinks he's stupid or anything—it's just that when he sees Chikara at lunch, he remembers that Chikara is smart and smart people like being around other smart people, don't they, not around people whose best quality is their ability to stop a ball from hitting the ground.

And if smart people like being around other smart people, then it would make sense that Chikara sometimes spends his lunch with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, because they're both smart, and even though Tsukishima's kind of an asshole, he makes comments that gets those adorable snorts from Chikara, and Yamaguchi always makes Chikara look about three times less stressed than Nishinoya does.

And so it's not that Nishinoya thinks he's stupid, it's just that he thinks that if he were smarter or better with words, it would be easier for him to go up to Chikara and say _I like you_ without feeling like—like he's being unfair or something.

Yamaguchi leans into Chikara's space slightly, his mouth moving with words Nishinoya can't hear but that prompt a grin from Chikara, and Nishinoya remembers that he has like, twenty different things to do that involve him being as far away as possible from the way Chikara's snorting laughter is making his heart twist.

He finds Ryuu back in their classroom, looking put-out, and he remembers that he's not the only one with an impossible crush.

It doesn't really make him feel any better, and he thinks that it would maybe be better to just forget about his crush when Chikara passes by the classroom, doesn’t even pause to look in. Nishinoya turns away from the doorway, tells himself not to look back to see if Chikara will pass by again.

 

He has to amend that thought practically as soon as class is out—he runs into Chikara on his way to the club room and starts babbling because that’s what he does, when he’s near Chikara, talks too much and too fast like he's afraid of what'll happen if idleness ghosts into the conversation, and Chikara just nods and listens and adds sardonic comments that make Nishinoya laugh, that make his cheeks feel bright and still the jitters that run through his body as constantly as blood. Chikara smiles at him like _Chikara's_ the one getting satisfaction out of this, and it shouldn't be enough to steal away Nishinoya's breath, but that's exactly what happens.

“How’d you do on that test?” Chikara asks when Nishinoya pauses. They’re sitting to the side of the school, overlooking the sports field. There are a few scant minutes before practice, but neither of them move towards the clubroom.

Nishinoya fishes the test out of his bag with trepidation at his spine—he’s not smart, and he’s not witty, and Chikara's got to realize that at some point, and when he does—

“Not bad,” Chikara says, and it sounds genuine, like he wasn’t expecting anything else out of Nishinoya, “You did a lot better this time.”

“Thanks,” he answers, taking the test back and shoving it with little care back into his bag, “but really, it’s cause you’re a lifesaver that I even got that score.”

“It’s not like I took that test for you,” Chikara says, leaning back on his hands. He gives him an almost grin, sounds almost fond when he says, “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Nishinoya repeats, grinning even though he’s surprised the way he always is when Chikara praises him for something off the court.

Chikara gets up, then, offers a hand to help Nishinoya up. They start towards the club room with the sun at their backs, the quiet between them easy in a way Nishinoya didn't think quiet ever could be. This quiet is warm and inviting, like a hot bath after practice or the feeling of sunlight as they head up the stairs, Nishinoya’s gaze traveling towards the baseball diamond, where one student sends the ball whizzing too fast past the ear of another, and all Nishinoya can think is— _gone, gone, gone._

 

He’s in the middle of class the next day when he realizes—a confession letter. His palm slams down on his desk as he marvels at the idea, thinking that a letter has got to be easier than trying to figure out how to get his tongue around the words out loud.

“Nishinoya,” his professor titters, and Nishinoya apologizes with half a mind, determination flaring up in his chest.

But then he gets home, drops his stuff down in his room, seats himself with some clean paper in front of him, and nothing comes out the way he wants it to.

He goes through two sheets, five, ten—he plants himself face down in his bed and lets out a frustrated noise into his pillows.

There’s just so much to be said and somehow no way to say it all.

By the time an hour passes, Nishinoya’s got a single line down in his uneven scrawl and he figures that’s all there is to say for something so big.

_I just really wanted you to know that I’m in love with you._

He folds it up as neatly as possible, puts Chikara’s name on the front and tries to conquer the way his fingers feel suddenly restless by punting a volleyball at the wall of the apartment building again and again, following its path with a flawless receive each time until someone sticks their head out to yell at him for being too loud.

 

He’s feeling more balanced when he gets to morning practice, the letter snug in his bag. He’s debating between giving Chikara the letter now or waiting until after afternoon practice—he’s favoring afternoon because if things go south and Chikara does something horrible like laugh at him, he’ll at least be able to sprint away into the night and have a full night’s rest to pretend like he’s okay.

But Nishinoya’s sure that Chikara’s too nice to ever do anything that mean, and he’s already been walking around with this crush for weeks, if not months, if not _years_ and Nishinoya’s not very patient to begin with. He takes the letter from his bag, hoping that he can catch Chikara before everyone else gets there.

He spots Chikara near the gym, and he has to resist the urge to just shout it from here— _hey, Chikara, I have something to give you._

Chikara's talking to someone, though—Nishinoya thinks that it must be a teammate at first, but then he sees that it’s the new girls’ volleyball captain and that—that really shouldn’t be enough to remind him that he’s not tall and not smart and not witty, and Chikara deserves someone a hundred times better than that.

Nishinoya’s heart stops somewhere past where it’s supposed to be and he presses his back to the nearest wall, out of sight, his fingers curling into the paper as he tries to remember that he doesn’t care if Chikara likes him back, that the whole reason he wrote this up was to get it off his chest.

He can tell that they’re talking about the upcoming sports festival from the snatches of conversation he can hear, and he’s overcome with the urge to peer around the corner even though he knows that there’s nothing more to the conversation—and even if there was, it wasn’t his business, was it, so he should really just go and maybe burn the letter while he’s at it, pretend like he wasn’t so far gone that—

“What are you doing?”

Nishinoya jumps at the sound of Chikara’s voice, flat but still curious. He turns, and there’s Chikara, a little worried line between his eyebrows.

"Oh, hey, Chikara," Nishinoya says immediately, and he knows he's being too loud, but he can't—he needs to distract himself from the fact that there's a stubborn part of his heart that’s telling him his chances with Chikara won’t change no matter how long he waits.

The line between Chikara's brows deepens, and he moves forward just a little as he speaks.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Nishinoya says, then, because it's so obviously a lie and he feels guilty for even trying, "Well, okay, I'm not—I'm not great, yanno, but like, nothing is _wrong_."

Nothing except for the fact that he has a confession letter balled in his fists and the vestiges of his confidence in the erratic thumping in his chest.

"Really," Chikara says flatly, his eyes flickering down and up like he's trying to figure out if there's some physical tick that'll let him know that Nishinoya's lying. Nishinoya's whole _body_ feels like a tell, and that’s when he remembers—to give a confession letter, _you first have to say it’s a confession letter_ and he really should have just left it in Chikara’s shoe locker to avoid this whole thing.

"So the thing is," he says, his heart loud, _loud_ in his ears. His mouth freezes there, like he's suddenly forgotten how to make his vocal chords work and Nishinoya's not entirely sure that he'll get around to remembering any time soon.

But the letter feels heavy in his palm and even if he's doomed from the start, he needs that weight gone. 

"I-I had something to give you," Nishinoya says, scratching his cheek with his free hand and looking anywhere but where Chikara is. The grass is lovely today. His face feels like it's burning.

"Had?" Chikara asks after a moment, and Nishinoya kind of hates that _that's_ what he picks up on. He laughs awkwardly.

The grass isn't really that interesting. He's not certain, but it's highly likely that his face is melting off.

Or it might be sweat. Nervous, nervous sweat.

"Yeah," Nishinoya says, "It's. Um. Like, a letter?"

"A letter?" Chikara repeats, and Nishinoya resists the urge to see if his face is as taken aback as his voice is.

"Yeah," Nishinoya says, feeling stupid because it's the only thing he can say at the moment. His chest is tight, like they're in the middle of a deuce and he's on the court and he knows that if he messes up now—"I had something I wanted to tell you."

“Oh,” Chikara says, his voice all surprise, “Um.”

This time he does look up, and Chikara's looking back at him like he's never seen him before. Nishinoya twists the letter in his hands a few times, Chikara’s eyes dropping to follow the movement, before Nishinoya flattens it out with careful precision, Chikara's name large and damning smack in the middle of the folded paper.

 _It's dumb,_ he almost wants to say, _It's dumb but it's true and that's what you get, I guess, since it's me who wrote it._

“Chikara,” he says, his voice trembling only the slightest bit. He meets Chikara’s gaze with a stubborn jutting of his chin. “I like you. Will you accept this?”

“Yeah,” Chikara says after a few seconds that last too long for Nishinoya’s liking, “I’ll accept it.”

Chikara reaches for the letter and Nishinoya lets it slip out of his fingers easily. Chikara breathes deeply, and Nishinoya feels his chest tighten because he knows what’s supposed to happen next and he—he

He bolts.

 

He doesn’t get very far. Chikara’s got a hand on his wrist and when Nishinoya risks a look back, he can tell that Chikara is _annoyed._

“You—” Chikara starts, but Nishinoya’s mouth runs away from him before he can hear the rest of it.

“It’s just that whenever I see you it’s like— _like_ , I guess, it’s like like, and it makes everything feel all,” Nishinoya lets out a rush of breath because that’s what it feels like, it feels like his stress is unraveling in the time it takes for his eyes to recognize the lines of Chikara’s body, for his ears to catalogue the cadence of Chikara’s voice, “and it’s cause I like you, Chikara, I really like you and it doesn’t even matter if—you don’t have to like me back, or anything, but I. I like you.”

He turns around fully, feeling Chikara’s grip slacken. Nishinoya feels out of breath, but also, impossibly, he feels like grinning.

Chikara looks kind of light-headed, though, and Nishinoya’s pretty sure that not a good post-confession look.

“Did you,” Chikara starts, slowly turning red, “write all of that down here?”

Nishinoya looks at the letter, chews his lip in thought. “Basically.”

Chikara laughs and Nishinoya is _offended_ because he thought Chikara was nicer than that, _how could he have a crush on someone who would laugh at his confession._

He’s about to say so, too, when Chikara takes a step forward, wraps his fingers around Nishinoya’s wrist again. The remnants of his laugh are at the corner of his eyes, and his fingers feel soft against Nishinoya’s skin.

“I like you, too,” Chikara says, and Nishinoya feels his breath abruptly vanish.

"Cool," he thinks he says, but it’s kind of hard to tell because everything comes back into focus in the same moment—the sound of the wind around them, the slight heat emanating off of Chikara’s body, the feeling of his heart pumping hard against his ribcage. “That’s really cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably incapable of actually writing unrequited Ennonoya, they are too pure.
> 
>  ~~Again, this will be edited at the end of rare pair week.~~ Thanks for reading!!
> 
>  **Update: 4/8** Major edits to pretty much everything except for the very last section, holy crap. It reads way better now haha The rest of the stories will be edited within the week!


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ennoshita and Nishinoya roadtrip to their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6-travel
> 
> -throws fluffy ennonoya in the air-

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ennoshita asked for what had to be the hundredth time that hour. Nishinoya frowned at him, hooking his fingers in the loose fabric of Ennoshita’s sweater.

“Are you seriously still asking me?” Nishinoya asked, “You know we already signed the lease, right?”

They already had the car packed, too, and Ennoshita’s first mug of coffee was waiting in the front seat--Nishinoya would be driving first because neither of them trusted Ennoshita’s driving skills before he was fully awake--and Ennoshita had texts from Kuroo and Akaashi, assuring him that they’d be there to help him move in, if he needed it.

“I know,” Ennoshita said, rubbing at the back of his neck. But it was still unbelievable to him--they spent two years getting used to being in a long-distance relationship, and now Nishinoya would be with him for the entirety of his senior year, would be with him forever, if he wanted to be.

“Then let’s get going!” Nishinoya said, disrupting the small birds around them with the volume of his voice. He tugged sharply, bringing Ennoshita down for a kiss, before spinning away and heading for the driver’s seat. “C’mon, I wanna get there while it’s still early!”

“It's a five hour drive,” Ennoshita pointed out, sending one last, lingering glance at the complex he’d spent all of his breaks at, the one that, until recently, Nishinoya, Tanaka, and Taketora had rented a two-bedroom apartment from. But then Nishinoya had gotten an offer to play volleyball professionally in the same area Ennoshita was studying in and it seemed perfect, like--

Well, like everything Ennoshita had ever wanted, and he’d kissed Nishinoya stupid as soon as he found out Nishinoya had taken the offer.

They would be back, probably--there were too many friends and family here for them to stay away, but it was still weird to be going away, together.

“Chikara,” Nishinoya called, grinning at him like he knew what Ennoshita was thinking. Ennoshita gave him a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck as got into the passenger seat, and watched their old home fade out of sight.

 

The first hour passed with Nishinoya’s reckless driving, and Ennoshita’s quietly panicked reminders about traffic laws.

“We’re fine, Chikara,” Nishinoya said, reaching to fiddle with the radio. They’re out of range of their presets already, the connection going weak and staticky the farther they drove. Ennoshita slapped his hand away, searched for a better signal as they passed what the sign tells them will be the last gas station in 76.2 miles.

“We have enough gas, right?” he asked, and there was a beat of silence before Nishinoya answered with a nervous hum.

“Are you kidding me,” Ennoshita deadpanned, leaning over to look at the gauge. He couldn’t remember if they’d filled up the car last night or not, and from the way the indicator was dipping solidly below the middle line, he could take a fairly certain guess that they _hadn’t._

“So, do you know how to go back?” Nishinoya asked, tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

“There’s no going back on the beltway,” Ennoshita said with a groan, abandoning the radio to dig in his pocket for his phone, squinting at the upcoming signs.

“Get into the right lane and make that next turn,” he said, glad that it was still early enough that there were only a few cars on the road, that Nishinoya didn't have to perform one of those maneuvers that made Ennoshita feel like his heart was going to stop.

His phone’s navigation popped up a few seconds later, telling him they only had to go three miles out of their way to get back to that gas station.

“We’re not forgetting anything else, are we?” Ennoshita asked when the gas station came into sight, mentally going through a checklist--they have some food that should last until they get really hungry and have to stop somewhere, a fully charged phone, the Ipod Nishinoya was probably going to set up the moment they stopped.

Nishinoya put his palm on the armrest, leaned forward to detach Ennoshita’s fingers from his phone when they stopped at a stop sign.

“Probably not,” he said brightly, tangling their fingers together, “But we should both probably use the bathroom.”

 

The sun was shining weakly as they started on the second hour, the clouds still thick and threatening early morning rain. Ennoshita fell asleep as the rain finally did come down, softly pattering against the glass, woke to hear Nishinoya singing along to the radio under his breath, slightly off-key.

Ennoshita blinked and stretched slightly in his seat, wondering what station Nishinoya finally managed to find that matched his musical tastes. Then he realized--there was a cord connecting Nishinoya’s Ipod to the car radio.

"Did I wake you?" Nishinoya asked, glancing over and taking a hand off the wheel to turn the music down. Ennoshita blinked at him slowly; in the confusion of waking, Ennoshita had forgotten that they left at six in the morning, that Nishinoya didn't bother to do anything with his hair but pull it back with a headband. For a few seconds, all Ennoshita could remember was that he'd always been stupidly fond of Nishinoya like this, hair soft at his nape, one of Ennoshita’s tshirts gaping a little at his neck, singing along to the radio and grinning at Ennoshita like this was all there was to the world.

"No," Ennoshita answered, returning Nishinoya’s grin and resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss him. He stretched his arms up as much as he could, feeling something settle with a pop in his spine.

There were more cars on the road now, moving slower than usual due to the rain, and Ennoshita stared out the window, the landscape familiar from his trips down this road. Farmland, mostly, with ranches off to the side and the beginnings of little towns off of exits and bridges; they weren't even close to the halfway point, but Ennoshita found himself thinking that this was already the road home.

"You can go back to sleep," Nishinoya said, looking at Ennoshita in the same way Ennoshita was just looking at him, "You look tired."

"I always look tired," Ennoshita said. He debated downing the rest of the gas station coffee, figured he's probably had worse, and drank it.

Nishinoya laughed, eyes back on the road as Ennoshita made a face, leaned back to grab the nearest food item and a bottle of water to wash down the taste of bad, lukewarm coffee.

 

They stopped halfway through hour three to trade places--neither of them were hungry enough to get real food, yet, so Nishinoya pulled off to the side of the road, jumping out of the car as soon as he had put it into park.

“Please don’t get hit by a car,” Ennoshita called over the sound of said cars zooming by them. It was half joking, half petrified by the way Nishinoya stretched with no regard to the fact that his back was to giant metal things on wheels passing by at sixty-five-plus miles an hour.

The rain had mostly ended, stray drops hitting the top of the car and Ennoshita’s nose when he stepped out, feeling the blood move in his legs again.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Nishinoya assured him, sticking close to the car as he moved to the passenger side, caging Ennoshita before he could fully close the passenger side door behind him.

“We’re in the middle of the highway,” Ennoshita said with a frown, but he still let his hands rest at Nishinoya’s waist, pulling him close when Nishinoya leaned up to kiss him, chaste little pecks that had Ennoshita laughing as Nishinoya moved to cover his cheeks and nose. The sound of engines and tires nearly drowned out his laugh, but he could tell that Nishinoya heard it from the smile against his neck.

“We have to go,” Ennoshita said, catching Nishinoya’s hands and pulling away slightly.

“No fun,” Nishinoya complained into his shoulder.

“You keep saying that,” Ennoshita said, amused. The wind was bringing the unfamiliar scent of trees he didn’t know the names of, pleasantly sweet with how it mixed with the evaporating rainwater and lingering car exhaust.

“Only sometimes,” Nishinoya pointed out, not making a move to get off of Ennoshita. So Ennoshita indulged him a little longer, his fingers pressing into Nishinoya’s hips as they kissed, slow and lazy, his teeth nipping at Nishinoya’s lower lip.

He could have stayed like that for an eternity, if the wind wasn’t starting to grow biting, making goosebumps pepper his arms, and the miles ahead of them weren’t looming in his mind.

"We're going," he repeated, pushing Nishinoya away with a gentle hand.

“Alright,” Nishinoya said with a sigh, following the movement of Ennoshita’s hand and stepping back. There was a moment between letting go of Nishinoya’s warmth and movement where Ennoshita wanted to pull Nishinoya back to him and against the car, like they were teenagers again and not in their early twenties, stopped on the side off the beltway with their car loaded up with boxes and a key to their new home waiting for them a hundred miles away.

Instead he pressed one more kiss to Nishinoya’s temple before getting into the driver seat, waiting for Nishinoya to buckle up before pulling back onto the road.

 

They were entering the fourth hour when Ennoshita asked, “How has this playlist not ended yet?”

It wasn’t a complaint--he liked the music playing, upbeat and infectious with a few slower songs interspersed between. He was just surprised that it had been hours and Nishinoya hadn’t had to do anything other than skip a few songs.

Nishinoya looked over, feet propped up against the dashboard. "It's a travel playlist," he said, "I made it like, forever ago. Do you like it?"

"You made a travel playlist?" Ennoshita asked, amused.

"Mhmm," Nishinoya answered, twisting to grab for something behind the passenger seat, ignoring Ennoshita’s sharp warning to be careful. “Back when you left the first time. I made a couple, but this one's my favorite.”

Ennoshita was glad that the road was just one long stretch of mostly linear asphalt because he had to take his eyes off the road to look at his boyfriend.

“Seriously?” he asked when Nishinoya settled back down, opening up a candy bar.

Nishinoya nodded, stuffing half of the chocolate bar in his mouth and making Ennoshita wince at the sight. He should be used to it, really, that Nishinoya could do that sort of thing without blinking, but it took him by surprise every time.

“I figured I’d need something to do on the bus ride up to see you, right?” Nishinoya continued. He avoided Ennoshita’s gaze. “So I started making playlists." He shrugged, careful and practiced, “I dunno, it helped.”

The music filling the car seemed suddenly far more than just background noise. Ennoshita knew that Nishinoya was protective of his Ipod, knew that it was one of those things Nishinoya always made sure to bring on his visits, but he'd never really thought about it as anything other than just music--something to make the trip pass quicker, to put on Ennoshita’s dock and let play while they talked.

"Oh," Ennoshita said awkwardly, "I didn't know you did that."

It felt like something he should know, and he felt guilty for being oblivious to it; they’d had that whole fallout second semester of his first year away, so shouldn’t he know by now that he wasn’t the only who’d been hurting?

Nishinoya pressed his feet against the dashboard again, his head turned to the side and resting against his knees in what had to be an uncomfortable position. He hummed softly, thinking sounds that Ennoshita recognized from years together, and Ennoshita let him, keeping his eyes on the road, looking out for the next exit they were supposed to take. It was an almost memorized route by now, and Ennoshita was thankful for that--it meant that he was able to recognize just how much farther they had to go by sight only.

Nishinoya’s humming stopped as they passed through a mountain road, the houses miniature against the vast amounts of forest pressing against them.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Nishinoya said bluntly, drawing a disbelieving snort from Ennoshita. Not that he didn’t believe Nishinoya, more that he couldn’t believe Nishinoya would keep that up for so long.

“Okay,” Ennoshita said, following the bend of the road carefully. “Why?”

“Cause it felt dumb,” was Nishinoya’s reluctant answer. He stuffed the rest of the chocolate in his mouth, watched Ennoshita with a kind of wide-eyed wariness.

“I get that,” Ennoshita answered, because he’d done the same thing; still did, sometimes, “But it’s not dumb, okay?”

Nishinoya didn’t answer for a few long seconds, enough for one song to end and another to start up.

_“She was built with a brain and some swagger,_  
_A little scream, little cry, little laughter.”_

“You seriously don’t think it’s dumb?” he asked.

Ennoshita let out an affectionate huff. “No,” he said, smiling slightly, “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

It was certainly better than how Ennoshita had initially handled it.

"I like it," he added, and that got a smile out of Nishinoya, got him to unfold himself from his position, blinking a few times before turning his head towards the window, reminding Ennoshita vividly of a flower blooming in a time lapse. Petals unfurling, color vivid as the inside showed, the picture freezing at the full flower, dainty and smooth and bright against grass--

“Milkshakes,” he said solemnly, turning back to Ennoshita.

“It’s like ten in the morning,” Ennoshita said with a pained frown. The sign proclaiming food was in sight now, telling him he only had 2.1 miles left to reach the rest stop.

Nishinoya shrugged. “Add coffee to it.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a frappuccino.”

“So, we’re getting them, right?”

“Only because we also need gas and food,” Ennoshita said sternly, but Nishinoya whooped anyways, drowning out the chorus of the song playing.

 

The relief Ennoshita felt when he laid eyes on the apartment complex-- _their_ apartment complex--was practically a tangible thing.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling into the parking lot and feeling a sigh work its way out of his throat.

“We’re home,” Nishinoya corrected, drinking the remnants of Ennoshita’s frappucino. He was leaning forward, trying to get a full view of the building.

“Yeah,” Ennoshita agreed, feeling affection fuzzy in his chest when he parked the car in their assigned slot. He didn’t even care that it was going to take all day to move all their stuff from the car to their room on the fifth floor, or that he still had stuff in storage down here that he needed to get. Ennoshita put the car in park and turned it off, feeling a grin tugging at his lips.

“Let’s go get the key,” he said, but Nishinoya was already getting out of the car, already three steps ahead of him, and Ennoshita laughed as he exited the car and followed.

 

Akaashi was at the door an hour later, a tupperware container of food in his hands.

“Kuroo’s on his way,” he said in greeting, pushing the contained into Ennoshita’s slack grip, “Bokuto, too. Were you really going to try and move in by yourselves?”

“Keiji!” Nishinoya greeted, appearing from behind a stack of boxes that were supposed to be in their bedroom. Akaashi grinned, rapping his knuckles on Ennoshita’s forehead.

“Thanks for coming,” Ennoshita said sheepishly.

“Of course,” was Akaashi’s even answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE MORE TO POST urgh I'll get them up eventually, but hopefully today.
> 
> ~~This'll be edited, etc, etc.~~ Thanks for reading!!
> 
> **Update: 4/12** Mostly minor edits to grammar (I suck at keeping things in the same tense haha). Also, that small bit of song was from "Not Your Fault" by AWOLNATION


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1-Celebration
> 
> "Nishinoya shifted so he was hovering over Ennoshita. Ennoshita blinked at him, watched the way bright blurs appeared and disappeared behind his head, how he looked softer with moonlight at his back and his breath coming out in a thin white puff.  
> “You don’t have anything you want to wish for?” he asked."

In the months they’d been together, Ennoshita had grown used to their sleeping arrangements whenever they spent the night together. He liked waking up to his face inexplicably pressed into Nishinoya’s chest, liked that there was always a moment between Nishinoya waking up and _actually_ waking up where he was just soft and confused and affectionate.

This, however, was a first.

“Chikara,” Nishinoya repeated, like Ennoshita hadn’t heard him the first time. Nishinoya didn’t usually wake him in the middle of the night. Nishinoya was quite a bit smarter than that.

“What the hell,” Ennoshita said, his voice coming out far more acidic than he meant it to be, an angry, sleepy slur.

“It’s time to go,” Nishinoya said, unperturbed. Ennoshita glared blearily, turning his attention to his phone.

“It’s one in the morning,” he said slowly, in case Nishinoya had somehow managed to forget this fact.

“Yeah.”

“Where are we going at one in the morning?”

“It’s a secret,” Nishinoya said, nuzzling Ennoshita’s neck before disappearing suddenly out of the bed.

“It’s cold,” Ennoshita complained, curling into the sheets. But the space Nishinoya had been occupying was quickly losing its heat and Nishinoya, unfortunately, was not getting any quieter.

“Chikara,” Nishinoya whined, “C’mon, get up!”

“What is this even for?” Ennoshita asked, pushing his face into his pillow. He could feel himself slowly waking up, and he resisted it out of pure stubbornness.

“Your birthday!”

Ennoshita lifted his head up, drawing his eyebrows together.

“My birthday was a week ago,” he pointed out, but Nishinoya shushed him, threw something warm and heavy in his direction.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t ready then!”

“…what wasn’t ready?” Ennoshita sat up, pulling his sweatshirt close and yawning. Once Nishinoya got insistent about something, there was no escaping it. Ennoshita slipped into the sweater, still reluctant to get out from under the covers.

“The sky,” Nishinoya answered, like that was the sort of answer that made sense.

“The sky?” Ennoshita echoed flatly before remembering—there had been something about a meteor shower coming this week. “You mean the meteor shower?”

Nishinoya made a long humming noise that didn’t answer Ennoshita’s question, but then, it wasn’t as if Nishinoya was very subtle about anything.

“Noya.”

“Okay, okay, yeah,” Nishinoya said, tugging Ennoshita forward. He stumbled slightly, still uncoordinated with sleep and his legs reluctant to leave the bed, but he managed to stay upright when Nishinoya pulled him free, asking, “So what do you think?”

“That was sweet of you,” Ennoshita said before he could think about it. Nishinoya beamed. “But it’s still one in the morning.”

Nishinoya scrunched his face, hands on his hips. “You’re impossible, Chikara.”

Ennoshita laughed. “Have you met yourself?”

It took them about five minutes to get themselves ready, two of which were spent with Ennoshita splashing water in his face like it might speed up the waking process. When he got out of the bathroom, Nishinoya had once again ditched his coat, bouncing on his heels with a scarf loose around his neck.

“Alright, let’s go!” Nishinoya said, speaking in a quieter voice so as not to disturb his parents across the hall.

Ennoshita called after him, doing up his own coat and sighing at Nishinoya’s back.

“Can you at least pretend you’re going to wear a jacket? Please?”

 

The jacket remained unbuttoned as they crossed behind Nishinoya’s apartment, following the haphazard beaten-in paths that lead into the park. It was the muffled kind of quiet around them, wind blowing soundless and their shoes crunching lightly in the snow that hadn’t yet melted. A few of the apartments still had lights on, pale yellow behind curtains half open.

“This is gonna be so cool, so punk,” Nishinoya was saying next to him, his fingers tangled with Ennoshita’s. “I’ve never seen a meteor shower before!”

“Me neither,” Ennoshita admitted, rubbing the cold away from his nose with his free hand.

“Yanno they say that if you wish on a shooting star, your wish’ll come true?” Nishinoya continued conversationally, peering up at Ennoshita with a grin. Ennoshita nodded; yes, he had heard that, didn’t they all grow up on the same fairy tales?

“Well, are you gonna wish for anything?” Nishinoya asked when Ennoshita didn’t say anything.

“Um,” Ennoshita stalled, awkward, “Probably not?”

“Aw, what? You gotta wish for something!”

“You know it’s just a superstition, right?” Ennoshita said to save himself from thinking about it further. Nishinoya groaned loudly, tugging Ennoshita so that he walked faster.

“You’re no fun, Chikara.”

“Dunno what that says about you, then,” Ennoshita answered.

Nishinoya glanced at him like he said something odd. “I’m fun enough for the both of us,” he said seriously. Ennoshita blinked at him before choking on a laugh, a sudden affection in his chest.

“Yeah, okay,” he said just as they entered the clearing, a slight hill just ahead of them. To his right, Ennoshita saw a few people piled onto the playground equipment, but Nishinoya tugged him past them, to the hill.

They settled down on top of the blanket they brought just as the first fragments of rock entered the atmosphere. The sky was dark, dark blue above them, the meteor a blur of white light that Ennoshita’s eye could only just catch.

“Whoa,” Nishinoya said, small and awed, and Ennoshita felt similarly. He lay down on his back, breathed in deep as another blur overtook the sky. Nishinoya curled up next to him, surprisingly quiet as the blurs came in quicker succession.

"They move too quickly for me to make a wish on!" Nishinoya grumbled, his head still tilted up towards the sky.

“You’re still on that?” Ennoshita asked, smiling despite himself.

Nishinoya shifted so he was hovering over Ennoshita. Ennoshita blinked at him, watched the way bright blurs appeared and disappeared behind his head, how he looked softer with moonlight at his back and his breath coming out in a thin white puff.

“You don’t have anything you want to wish for?” he asked.

“It’s more like,” Ennoshita started, reaching up to cup Nishinoya’s cheek briefly, “I don’t know what I would wish for?”

Nishinoya hummed at that, his mouth pressed into a displeased line. Something clicked for Ennoshita, though, and he sat up on his elbows, staring at his boyfriend.

“What is it you want to wish for?” he asked.

Nishinoya tilted his chin up and away from him, suddenly cagey. “I can’t say.”

Ennoshita snorted. “How superstitious of you.”

“It’s an important wish,” Nishinoya said, settling down next to Ennoshita again and turning his face towards the sky. Ennoshita stared at him for a few seconds, though, watched how he could see the sky reflected in his eyes, the color running high in his cheeks.

He could take a hundred guesses about what it was Nishinoya wanted to wish for, but he had a feeling it was probably something cheesy and romantic and very _Nishinoya_ , and the thought was enough to prompt a warm affection in Ennoshita’s chest.

He propped himself onto his forearm, dipping down to kiss Nishinoya. There was a brief, surprised intake of breath beneath him before Nishinoya’s mouth opened against his, his fingers skimming to rest at the back of Ennoshita’s head.

Ennoshita pulled back, his breath coming out hard through his nose.

“Love you,” he said in response to Nishnoya’s questioning gaze. Nishinoya let out a sound that Ennoshita could only classify as a surprised snort, bringing Ennoshita’s head down to the crook of his neck. Ennoshita twisted so he could stare at the sky, pinching Nishinoya’s stomach with a frown when the other boy kept laughing.

“I thought I was the sap,” Nishinoya said happily, making Ennoshita’s face burn.

“Yeah, well,” was Ennoshita’s reluctant answer, mostly spoken into the fabric of Nishinoya's shirt.

“I love you, too, though,” Nishinoya said. Ennoshita bit back a grin, turning his attention back to the sky.

The meteors were coming in quickly now, lighting up the sky for brief, precious seconds. Fast and graceful and larger than he could ever imagine, crisscrossing the sky and leaving aftereffects when Ennoshita blinked, bright even behind his eyelids.

_If I had to make a wish,_ he thought, following the path of one shooting star before it fizzled out, then automatically looking back up for a new one to follow, _if I had to make a wish, it’d be something like ‘I don’t want us to ever end.’_

It blinked out of existence, a wink from the heavens like they’d just shared a secret, and Ennoshita reached out to link his fingers with Nishinoya’s, just in case there was some truth to fairy tales.

“Hey,” Nishinoya said, his fingers brushing against Ennoshita’s knuckles and prompting him to tilt his head up. Nishinoya was smiling at him, all soft edges when he said, “Happy birthday, Chikara.”

Ennoshita laughed slightly, shimmying out of Nishinoya’s grip so he could press their foreheads together.

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -listens to Happily Ever After by He Is We on repeat-
> 
> fun fact! These all take place in the same universe, so chronologically, they would read II, IV, I, III. Obviously I didn't post them that way because I'm no good at writing linearly, but I think it still reads okay??
> 
> Thank you for reading these!! Your input is greatly appreciated c: rare pair week was fun, if hectic and rushed, so I hope you all enjoyed these as much as I enjoyed writing them!
> 
> **Update 4/14** all chapters now edited! This one and the first one had really minor changes so nothing really changed haha again, thanks to everyone for comments and kudos!

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~like I need and excuse to write more ennonoya~~  
>   
> 
> i'm sorry my Enno is so mopey
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always! Also this will probably be edited at the end of the week, but if you notice anything glaring, please let me know!!


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